


watch how we collide

by slowtwilights (andsometimesyoufly)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Banter, Bisexual Harry, Fluff without Plot, Hand Jobs, Louis Tomlinson Calls Harry Styles Pet Names, M/M, Making Out In Public, More sap than a maple tree, Nipple Play, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, THE FACT THAT THAT'S A TAG, and everywhere else, but like has a little bit of plot who knows, can i ever relax?, especially for like....the context, is it just Lust or is it...MORE?!, it's really just him calling harry 'baby' an excessive amount of times?, niall and harry are roommates, that becomes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-09
Updated: 2017-11-09
Packaged: 2019-01-31 06:14:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12676032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andsometimesyoufly/pseuds/slowtwilights
Summary: Reason #44: Wingman diving on the friend grenade“No, no, Haz, it is the day that the Barbara Palvin has agreed to go to the bar with yours truly,” Niall grinned, hands grasping Harry’s shoulders, tacking on a mumbled, “but she said she was bringing her roommate, so I need to bring mine.”Unbidden, Harry’s shoulders slumped and he let out a rather pathetic whine.“No, no, Haz, this is excitin’!  An’ you agreed! Remember?”





	watch how we collide

**Author's Note:**

> this fought me every single step of the way but! it exists! and i do hope you like it. i'll reveal my beta/britpick when authors are revealed. 
> 
> title is from _hand grenade_ by thousand foot krutch.
> 
> as always, it's fiction. don't break the fourth wall, artistic liberties were taken etc. etc. 
> 
> shoutout to hot cheetos and 90's r&b for getting me through and lauren and nic for running this and being so incredibly patient.

“You’re not dressed?!” Niall’s shrieking cry rang out from behind him, echoing around the high ceilings of their flat.

Harry paused, turning to level Niall with an unimpressed look. “Clearly,” he responded drolly, scratching idly at the line of coarse hair under his belly button.

Leveling him with an equally unimpressed look, Niall pulled his phone out of his pocket, pointing to the date and time pointedly like it was supposed to mean something to Harry.

“I don’t have my phone,” Harry informed him, looking down at himself like it could be possible that his phone might have somehow materialized.

“You’re not even wearing clothes, Harry, I can tell you don’t have your phone,” Niall whined, seeming to be seconds away from stomping his foot in a full-on strop.  “And that is not the point here.”

With a shrug, Harry continued to the bathroom before Niall could ruin the post-lunch nude-yoga-zen he’d fallen into.  He was mid-stream when the door was yanked open.  Having known Niall for years, it was to be expected and, truthfully, Harry probably should have just left the door open.  With a resigned sigh, he gestured for Niall to continue.

“Today…is _the_ day. You’d best be dressed soon.” His blue eyes were lit up with some kind of manic excitement and, yeah, Harry had realized from the beginning of the conversation that he was missing something, but this was clearly a Big Something for his best friend. The indifference he’d been feeling was replaced with…slightly less indifference.

Harry flushed and put the seat down before washing his hands because he was a gentleman. And also Niall never checked to see if the seat was down before sitting on it and if Harry had to hear about his wet arse one more time, he was going to scream.

“Today is Friday,” Harry agreed genially, wiping his hands to dry on Niall’s shirt, “ _the_ start of _the_ weekend.”

“No, no, Haz, it is _the_ day that _the_ Barbara Palvin has agreed to go to _the_ bar with yours truly,” Niall grinned, hands grasping Harry’s shoulders, tacking on a mumbled, “but she said she was bringing her roommate, so I need to bring mine.”

Unbidden, Harry’s shoulders slumped and he let out a rather pathetic whine.

“No, no, Haz, this is excitin’!  An’ you agreed! Remember?”

“No, no, Niall, it’s not. Well, for you, yes.  Chuffed, thrilled, et cetera. Babs is a grade-A-wonderful, mega-catch and too good for you, from your own mouth. But, like, I told you, right? I didn’t want to go out with a girl for a bit.  I agreed that if the need arose, I would do it to help you out but. Like. C’mon, mate.”

Harry had been on a streak recently with girls and it was generally great; some solid dates, some fun late night activities and, fuck, girls are awesome. But he had been craving some solid muscle and a rasp of stubble against his cheeks. And perhaps a cock that wasn’t synthetic and sitting in his bedside drawer.  He hadn’t gotten off with a boy or dated a boy in what felt like an eon and he _missed_ it.

“You don’t have to, like, have sex with her, Harry. Just be yer charming self and make conversation while I can convince Babs to firstly, please have sex with me and only me for the rest of time. And, secondly, date me and marry me and carry my children, relating to point one.” Niall’s hands had moved from his shoulders to his jaw, cupping it and forcing Harry to stare into his eyes, which still had a bit of a manic gleam to them.

Niall had been pining after Barbara for months and, as his best friend, it was Harry’s duty to help him out here, surely.  Pushing away any thoughts of a relaxing Friday night, he clarified, “So her roommate is the friend grenade that I’ll be sacrificing my Friday night to be diving on?”

He made his way to the kitchen, mentally cataloging what they had in their sparse fridge that he could throw together for dinner. There was a sinking feeling in his gut that he would be drinking a lot tonight. Which was unfounded, honestly. Barbara was great from what Niall had told him, and anyone she chose to live with was probably really cool too.  Or they were a hermit with no social skills which was why Niall needed to bring Harry to keep the roommate away from Barbara because they would be glomming onto her.  Harry was likely being melodramatic about the prospects of the night because Niall was robbing him of a leisurely night with another round of binge-watching _Stranger Things_ and eating ice cream, but. Whatever. It’s fine. He’s a good friend, he’ll just get plastered on Niall’s dime and make conversation.

“I told you, you don’t have to hook up with her if you don’t want to! Also, friend grenade is a rude phrase, thanks. Jus’...distract her so that Babs and I can have a little alone time and I can charm her in a non-work environment. She made it sound like she and her roommate are _always_  together, so you _gotta_ be my wingman.  I need time to flex me Irish charms.”

For someone that needed Harry so badly, he was really making this sound so vastly unappealing. “You’re making this sound verrrrrrryy unappealing, Niall,” Harry informed him, stooping to check in the fridge for something to throw together.

Niall shuffled into the kitchen behind him, leaning against the wall and steepling his hands under his chin. “From what Babs has told me, she seems cool.  She plays footie in the park on weekends and works in music or summat and she’s apparently a feckin’ riot. Dunno what she looks like, not that it should matter, but like, I think you’d at least have some stuff ta talk about? I need ya, buddie.”

Harry sighed again for what felt like the twentieth time since this conversation had started. “What’d you say her name was again?”

“Lou? Short for Louise, maybe, I think is what she said? Summat.  I promise if you’re really that miserable, you can leave, just give me enough time to seal the deal, bro,” Niall cajoled, reaching out to tweak Harry’s nipple.

“Fine,” Harry agreed, swatting his hand away, “but you’re buying my drinks.”

* * *

Two hours later found Harry dressed in his favorite pair of battered black skinnies, a threadbare white shirt, and some worn Chelsea boots.  If he was going to do this, he was going to do it comfortably.  He could still pull in this if he wanted to, probably.  He’d certainly pulled in scuzzier clothing.  Not that he wanted to pull this Louise girl, necessarily (as he’d told Niall multiple times), but perhaps there’d be someone else at the bar that caught his eye.  He could multi-task.

Thankfully, Babs and her roommate were apparently cool with a no-frills atmosphere, so he and Niall set out to their favorite local down the road.  Their friend Liam was working the bar tonight, so that was a win for Niall as he probably wouldn’t have to pay as much for all the drinks Harry was going to force him to buy as payment for robbing him of his Friday night.

Niall chattered to him excitedly, the whiskey that they’d had for pre-drinks making him excessively chatty along with the nerves he was clearly experiencing.  Harry was excited for him, honestly; Barbara was just about everything Niall was looking for in a girl.  And the whiskey had done a good job of warming Harry up to a night out and he was certainly a lot less grouchy than he had been earlier.

They finally arrived at the bar, Niall slapping Harry on the back gleefully before handing him his card.  “Babs texted me that they’re here, go get us drinks and I’ll go find her.”

Harry took the card with a fond roll of his eyes, intent on ordering himself something top-shelf and Niall something well, ambling over to the bar quickly.  He was stopped in his tracks by what was probably the single most glorious arse he’d ever seen in his life.  Like, jaw-droppingly, mouth-wateringly perfect. More than an ample handful, it was wonderfully round and sitting high on a pair of lusciously thick thighs.  Coupled with a softly flared waist and what looked to be a well-muscled back, Harry immediately changed course to the end of the bar where the stranger was standing, rather than the middle where Liam was hovering and waiting to take orders.

In a way that he imagined to be very suave, Harry sidled up to the bar next to the stranger, immediately knocking one of the beers he was turning around with back onto the bar.

Harry’s eyes widened, hands flying to steady the beautiful man in front of him, and also somehow clean up the beer and perhaps maintain a shred of dignity.  He righted the stranger and then the glass, breathing an embarrassed ‘’Oops,” the chagrin coloring his cheeks pink.

The man, who had somehow evaded spilling beer on himself,  just laughed out a “Hi,” in response, mirth shaking his shoulders in a way that had Harry biting down on a grin.

After making sure he was truly steady, Harry let go of his elbow, taking a step back and running a hand worriedly through his short hair.  “I’m normally way smoother than that,” he promised the man, trying not to sound as breathless as he felt with sharp sea-blue eyes trained on him.

The man laughed again, taking a step forward so he could lean against the bar, away from the puddle Harry had inadvertently created.  Harry would normally feel bad, but he could see Liam coming with a bar rag now, used to Harry’s clumsiness.  He mirrored the man’s position, willing the burn of embarrassment away from his cheeks and neck.

The man regarded him, running his tongue over a sharp incisor.  “You mean you don’t normally get a boy’s attention by barreling him over and spilling his drink?”  Okay, teasing and a lilting, northern accent.  And perfectly arched eyebrows and an adorable nose and striking cheekbones and messy caramel hair and thick, reddish stubble and holy shit tattoos.  Fucking Christ.  Harry could maybe handle this.  Maybe.

“It’s not something I’ve tried before, to be totally honest,” Harry admitted, running his hand through his hair again, trying to subtly flex his biceps, a wry grin on his face.  He could do this. He could flirt with perhaps the most gorgeous, perfectly proportioned human in all of existence.  He could.  “Did it work?”

“We’ll see,” the man laughed, again, features lighting up with his patently unreal smile.  “I’ll tell you what,” he started, looking Harry up and down slowly. “How about you get me another drink while I drop this one off for my friend and, when I come back, we can go from there.”

Harry tried and failed not to fidget under the assessment, nodding and signaling to Liam mindlessly, watching as the man faded away into the crowd, hips swaying enticingly as he went.

Liam had wiped the bar down efficiently and was standing behind the bar biting back on a laugh when Harry could finally pull his eyes off the path the stranger had disappeared through.  “Don’t say it, Liam,” Harry warned around a laugh, giddy at the prospect of the most intriguing man coming back to talk to him.

“Wasn’t sayin’ a word, H,” Liam countered, as he rested his hands on the bar, leaning toward Harry, “your face is sayin’ em all.”

Harry ran a hand down his face with a laugh, shaking his head quickly to attempt to clear the fog in his mind. “Right, yeah. So, what’s he having, then?”

“Stella,” Liam responded, already filling up the pint for him, “what’ll you have?”

Harry spared a brief thought for Niall, but he could wait.  Harry was here as a favor to Niall and now he had the most beautiful man he’d ever seen coming back for him.  Niall could get his own drink if he was that upset. “Lemme get a Jameson and cran, Niall’s buying,” Harry said, handing over Niall’s credit card.  “Leave it open, please.”

“You got it, boss,” Liam confirmed, taking the card and setting about making Harry his drink.  Harry felt a hand settle delicately on his back and he turned to see the man from before grinning up at him. He smiled helplessly in return, thrilled that he had been genuine and had made his way back over to Harry.

The man picked up his drink, going to take a sip of it when Harry shot out a hand to grasp his wrist gently, tutting. “’S bad luck to take a drink without cheersing,” Harry informed him wisely, “bad sex for seven years if we’re not making eye contact.”

The man laughed, putting his drink back on the bar, leaning against it with a hip cocked out to emphasize the soft curve of his body. “Don’t even know me name and already damning me to a terrible sex life,” he teased, holding out a hand for Harry to shake. “’m Louis,” he introduced himself, accent flitting up on the soft – _ie_.

“Ohhh, French eh? Fancy, fancy,” Harry teased back, slipping his hand into Louis’. “’m Harry.”

“Pleasure,” Louis responded, hand lingering in Harry’s briefly before pulling away and grabbing his drink once more.

Harry looked to the side where his drink was waiting for him and picked his up as well, holding the rim of his glass out to Louis. “What’re we going to toast to?”

“Well,” Louis began, mirth dancing in his eyes as they locked onto Harry’s, “you’ve attempted to damn me to a terrible sex life already.  So, how about ‘here’s to fucking who we please, and pleasing who we fuck.’”

Harry sputtered, cackling aloud with his head thrown back, completely caught off guard by the cheek of the man in front of him.  He willed himself to calm down, ensuring that his eyes were locked on Louis’ as he put the rim of his against his, clinking them together. “That was brilliant,” he said between laughs, “I’m just letting you know I’m stealing that one.”

“What’s mine is yours,” Louis allowed, nodding sagely. “So, what brings you ‘ere tonight ‘arold?”

“My best friend is attempting to hook up with the girl of his dreams,” Harry informed him, nodding somewhere toward the back corner of the bar where Harry assumed they’d be as he was unable to see them through the moderate crowd.

“Ah, ah,” Louis shook his head, tapping a finger lightly against Harry’s heart, “what brings _you_ here tonight?”

“’m his designated wingman, thrown to the wolves to dive on her roommate grenade,” Harry told him, scratching idly at the back of his neck.

Louis regarded him, smirking slightly in a way that was unfairly attractive. “But you’re here talking to me?”

“I’m here talking to you,” Harry agreed, “I think I’ve found someone much more interesting.  Niall will be fine; he’s got enough charm for the both of us.”

“You’re plenty charming, don’t discount yourself.  And I think you might be surprised by his girl’s roommate.  Ya really never know.”

“Nah, I’m sure she’s great but, like. Not interested in birds right now, y’know? Sometimes, but not now. Niall said she seems cool from what Barbara, his girl, said.  But he was insistent that I need to take one for the team for him.”  

“Well aren’t you a good friend,” Louis teased, trailing a finger along Harry’s bicep, smirking as goosebumps erupted under his touch. “So tell me, if I were this roommate that you were tryin’ to distract, what would we talk about?” 

“I thought we might talk about us, you,” Harry rushed out, trying to keep the slight whine out of his voice. Louis was standing, golden and bright, in front of him and he didn’t particularly want to think about anyone else in the room, “Think I’d maybe like to get to know you a bit more.”

“Well, aren’t you sweet,” Louis simpered, still mindlessly dragging his finger around Harry’s arm, “but humor me, please. How’d you go ‘bout pickin’ up a bird?”

With a quick, fortifying sip of his drink, he chewed on his bottom lip contemplatively before answering. “I don’t think it’s all that different, yeah, ‘tween everyone? People are people, so I talk to them like they’re...people, I guess. Y’know ya like, find someone interesting or attractive or both and just, talk.”

Louis was rolling his lips distractedly, seemingly biting down on a smile with the way his eyes were crinkled charmingly at the corners.  “And this girl, what’s she into? You know anything about her or’d your friend throw you on this ‘grenade’ unprepared?”

“All’s I know is she works in music, plays footie, and is a quote ‘feckin’ riot’ unquote. And lives with Babs. Other than that, not much.”

“Right, right.  So, how would you talk to someone that works in music, as like...a person,” he needled with an unfairly attractive wink, “like...pretend I work in music, what’d you say to me?”

“What kind of music? Like how do you work in music, I need details, Louis, c’mon,” Harry laughed, enjoying their quick banter immensely.

“I’m a songwriter,” Louis shot back without thought, surprising Harry a bit.  The surprise must have shown on Harry’s face because he quickly added “always fancied myself a bit of a wordsmith.  Can never shut up, me.”

There looked to be a bit of a nervous flush stained high on Louis’ cheekbones, but Harry easily chalked it up to the beer that he’d been drinking and thought about how he would answer. “I’d wanna know how you go into it in the first place. Where you draw inspiration from. Your favorite line you’ve ever written. The song you’re the proudest of and the one you’re the most embarrassed of. I’d wanna know what moves you and drives you, I’d wanna pick your brain.”

Louis was grinning at him, eyes sparkling in the dim lights of the bar, seemingly pleased with Harry’s absolute rubbish word vomit. “That took you a bit to get out, but those were some ace questions to ask me.”

“You if you were a songwriter at least,” Harry added with a nod, signaling to Liam for a refill for both their drinks. Louis made him so nervous he had sucked down his drink in a bid for liquid courage.  

“Yeah, if I was a songwriter,” Louis agreed, running his tongue over his incisor again. “And the other thing? The footie, right?”

“Oh yeah, yeah, love footie. Can’t play for shit, though,” he laughed, thanking Liam for the round.

Louis cocked his head, giving Harry an up and down, heated gaze lingering on Harry’s thighs. “You’ve got the body for it, though.”

“Keep in shape other ways, but, yeah. With my knowledge and understanding of the football game, I feel like I should be a lot better at football. I play, just...not as well as some of my mates,” he laughed, eyes following a similar path along Louis' body, coming to rest on his muscled thighs. “You’ve got a great body, too.”

“Not for football, though?” Louis pouted faux-innocently 

“For just about everything, far as I can tell.” This was a level of shameless flirting that he'd never reached before.  Usually, he was a bit more subtly and naturally charming but, with Louis, everything felt frantic a bit, like it was dialed up to 11. “D’you play?” he leaned forward into Louis’ space, under the guise of being able to hear him better, though no one had come into the bar for the duration of their conversation.

Louis leaned in closer to him at the same time, mirroring his movements like maybe he was feeling the same constant thrumming beneath his skin that Harry was. “Like to play in the park on weekends whenever I can.”

“‘s this you talking, or are you talking as if you were her roommate?" 

A sharp burst of laughter burst out of Louis, the crinkles by his eyes folding up in his brief joy. “Let’s go with both,” he suggested, an undercurrent of laughter still evident in his voice. “Speaking of the roommate, where’s yours? Aren’t you obligated to throw yourself onto your own funeral pyre at any moment?”

With a groan, Harry let his forehead fall onto Louis’ shoulder, diligently working to seem like he wasn’t inhaling the scent of subtle cologne and tobacco. “Dun wanna,” he whined, grinning to himself when Louis stroked gently through the back of his hair.

“Oh, you poor baby.” And like, Louis was mocking him, cooing and tutting at him in mock sympathy, but his fingers hadn’t stopped carding through the back of Harry’s hair and Harry’d do just about anything to make sure he never stopped.  Every brush of his fingers across Harry’s skin sent little shocks of pleasure rolling down his spine and Harry had to fight not to arch up into his hand.

As soon as he recognized that this had gone on for just a touch too long (doing it at all was probably totally and completely inappropriate for literal strangers but), he went to pull away, but Louis stopped him by grabbing his cheeks, pushing his lips together.  In a comically terrible approximation of Harry’s deep drawl, he intoned “Louis, will you come with me to protect my purity from Barbara’s scary roommate?” squishing Harry’s cheeks to move his mouth along with the words.

Harry cackled, grabbing Louis’ hands away from his cheeks, tangling their fingers together briefly, butterflies igniting in his tummy at the flash of contact. He brought his own hands up toward Louis’ face, still laughing breathlessly as Louis attempted to worm his head away from Harry’s hands despite never actually moving further away from him. When he finally, successfully, had grasped Louis’ stubbled cheeks in his hands, he pitched his voice up as many octaves as he possibly could, “Of course, I will Harry, you beautiful, charming man. I wouldn’t leave your side for a second.”

Louis’ jaw dropped at Harry’s complete butchering of his lilting accent, reaching out lightning quick to tweak at Harry’s nipple.  Years of being at Niall’s mercy made Harry’s reactions to titty twisters legendary, though, and he grabbed Louis’ hand before he could make contact.

“Fine, I’ll protect you from her big, bad roommate,” Louis laughed, twisting their fingers together properly. “Also, your accent is bloody awful, I sound nothing like that.” He reached behind Harry to grab a beer Liam must have set down for him off the bar, before knocking his hip into Harry’s. “Lead the way to where you think they are, yeah?”

With a prayer that his hands weren’t a veritable swamp in Louis’ cool grip, he grabbed his drink before moving toward where he approximated Niall and Barbara were. He kept an ear out for Niall’s booming voice, half paying attention to the crowd he was fording through and a bit more attention to Louis behind him, looking for all the world like the cat who got the cream.

He spotted a hat, thrown on by Niall as they left the flat, bouncing around in the corner of the bar and tugged Louis behind him toward his friend. Before he could raise his hand toward Niall to get his attention, Niall noticed him and burst out laughing, exaggeratedly slapping at his good knee, elbowing Barbara next to him excitedly. Barbara looked toward him, and while she was just as gorgeous as Niall had described, Harry was more taken aback by her bringing her hand up to her mouth to try and stifle her sudden laughter as well.

Harry got the distinct impression he was missing something for the second time that day. 

When they got to the table, he noticed that there were two empty seats, presumably for him and, “Where’s your roommate, Barbara? Also, nice to meet you, I’m Harry,” he said, offering his hand to shake after putting his drink down as he was not about to drop Louis’ hand now that he had it.

“Nice to meet you, Harry,” she replied through giggles, shaking his hand, “I see you’ve already met my roommate.”

Harry looked around, his gaze falling to Louis who had put his drink down and was biting at the side of his wrist, shoulders shaking with barely contained laughter.

“Oh for fucks sake,” he shouted with a laugh, dropping Louis’ hand to push him away playfully. He pulled his chair out and let Louis get settled so that he could push his chair as close to Louis as he possibly could without sitting in his lap.  He might be a deceitful little shit, but he was still the most gorgeous, intriguing person Harry had probably ever met and he kept feeling like he might never get enough of his presence.

Leaning close to Louis, he settled his arm around the back of his chair, running his curled fingers back and forth across the supple skin of Louis’ bicep. It all felt like it might be a lot too much, a lot too soon, but Louis was leaning into his side and that had to be a sign. “So,” he began, tremors of laughter still shaking through him as he thought about the last 20-or-so minutes that he’d been here, “I take it you knew the whole time?" 

“Oh, the whole entire time, babe.”

“Even when I was shamelessly flirting with you in the very beginning?”

“Oh no, no, not then,” Louis assured him, planting his hand above Harry’s knee for balance as he teetered a bit in his seat, trying to get comfortable. “When you started talking about Niall and your _immense_ self-sacrifice though, I caught on pretty quickly. Do take a bit of exception to being referred to as a ‘grenade’ though.”

“Oi, H, I feckin told ya, that’s a rude term,” Niall piped up, from across the table, eyes darting over to make sure that Barbara had noticed him defending her non-existent female roommate.

“It’s just an expression, it’s from _How I Met Your Mother_ , I dunno, I didn’t know you were…. _you_ , I’m sorryyyyyy, this is Niall’s fault, I won’t say it again, I’m,” the excuses rushed out though his hand never slowed from its hypnotic motion on Louis silken skin. 

“I’ll forgive you just this once,” Louis assured him with a wink, the hand he had placed on Harry’s leg mimicking the motion of Harry’s hand on his arm.

“Didn’t realize this was meant to be a double date,” Niall groused, gesturing to how close Louis and Harry were, tangled up in each other within a half-hour of meeting.  He and Barbara still had a respectful distance between them, seemingly a chasm in comparison to the couple across from them.   

“Didn’t realize this was a date at all,” Barbara quipped back, quick as a whip.  She picked up her beer to take a sip and Harry could see her fighting a smile around the rim of the pint glass. 

Niall, for his part, turned white as a sheet, the ruddiness from the alcohol disappearing from his cheeks in an instant. “Yeah, no yeah, oh god no of course not, Babs, oh my god I would never assume, yeah, I just, fuck um, yeah, god no this totally isn’t a date, I’m so….fuck.”

Barbara burst into a fit of laughter, pushing at Niall’s shoulder flirtily. “God, I wish I’d recorded that. Of course this is a date, even if you had to have your security blanket here with you.” 

“What, no!” Niall shot back, “ _you_ told  _me_ that Louis _E_ had to be here with you.”

“You always look like you’re about to piss yourself at the thought of being alone with me, Niall, I was trying to give you an out.” 

Louis and Harry watched them banter back and forth like a tennis match, leaned into each other like they’d known each other for longer than they actually had. It was a bit weird because Harry had come out dreading tonight and so sure that he would be in an uncomfortable situation with a total stranger.  Now, he was the most comfortable he’d ever been with a total stranger (or really anyone who wasn’t one of his best friends or family members). Louis was, god...Louis was exceptional.

* * *

Niall had gotten up to get the next round for all of them, and they were sitting around getting to know each other as a group. Niall was right, Louis really was a “feckin’ riot” and Barbara really was too, and they all got along like a house on fire.  Harry was glowing under Louis’ constant attention, the two of them keeping up the constant touches and flirty banter even while sitting together as a group.  Having Louis and Harry be as touchy as they were seemed to help Niall come out of his shell a bit, and he had finally ventured into putting his arm around the back of Barbaras chair.

Louis pulled away from Harry momentarily, patting his leg as he got up. “Gotta take a piss,” he announced to the table, shooting a pointed look at Harry before sauntering over to the bathroom.

Harry watched him work his way through the crowd, wondering what the most polite way to extract himself from the table would be when Niall spoke up. “Don’t keep him waiting, Haz, for fucks sake.”

Harry skulled his drink and set the glass down on the table with a flourish, slipping off the chair and moving toward the bathroom with haste.

He wove his way through the tables to the bathroom, slipping through the door to find Louis washing his hands. “Oh, you’re really using the bathroom,” he said, struck dumb momentarily.

“Yes, of course, whatever else would I have come in here for?” Louis asked innocently as he turned toward Harry and dried his hands on his pants. 

“Oh, well, I dunno,” Harry shrugged, scuffing his foot behind him before moving to the urinals, pushing down the welling embarrassment at being so terribly off-base. 

Quicker than he could blink, he had Louis crowding in his space with a whispered “Oh, c’mere you,” before he wrapped a hand around Harry’s neck to pull him in.

Kissing Louis felt like the first gasping breath of air after coming up to the surface: that strange mixture of invigorating yet calming, and nearly heart-stopping with just how good it was.  Instead of the frantic, bodice-ripping kiss Harry had been expecting in this shite pub loo, it was languid and unhurried, Louis seemingly content to just work his mouth slowly against Harry’s, grounding him with a hand on the back of his neck and the other stroking whisper-soft against the bare skin of his hip.

Harry felt a bit like the main character in a rom-com, with his arms rested over Louis’ shoulders, playing with the back of his hair, about to pop his foot, swooning at the drag of Louis’ stubble against his own smooth jawline.  Louis easily the most attentive person Harry had ever kissed, cataloging the whimper Harry helplessly released when Louis dragged his sharp incisors over his plush bottom lip, the way he had to bite off a moan when Louis scratched his blunt nails at his swell of his hip.

Harry began walking them back to the sinks without pulling away from the kiss. As he was about to push Louis up against the sinks, Louis once again gained the upper hand, turning them and pushing Harry up against the sinks instead.  “Can’ believe you haven’ grabbed me arse yet,” he panted as he pulled away slightly, his voice a breathy exhalation against Harry’s spit-slick lips, “keepin’ this _very_ chaste.”

Harry’s head was reeling from the kiss and the thought of the most _electrifying_ kiss of his life being called chaste made him pout immediately.  Louis laughed, just a gentle huff that ghosted over his kiss-swollen mouth, and tilted forward slightly to nip at Harry’s bottom lip just to make him moan. He rolled his hips against Harry’s, letting him feel the evidence of just how aroused Louis was against his thigh.  “You’ve been staring at me arse all night, baby,” he teased before beginning to kiss at Harry’s neck, purposefully making sure that Harry could feel the rasp of his stubble against the soft skin.  “Jus’ surprised that you haven’t gotten those big, _big_ hands on it, is all." 

Loathe as he was to move his hands from the back of Louis’ neck, he was right. Louis’ arse was what had drawn Harry to him in the first place, was the first thing driven him to complete distraction and the fact that Harry had yet to get his hands on it? Surely a crime.  As Louis began to lave biting kisses along his jawline, Harry blindly trailed his hands down the gentle slopes of Louis’ back, cupping first his delicate shoulder blades and then that gorgeous flare of his hips after the dip of his waist.

He slipped his hands under the thin material of Louis’ tee, sweeping up and down his back, marveling at the silken-softness of his skin and the way it caused Louis to arch into him helplessly.  As he brought his hands down again he stopped to thumb at the dimples at the bottom of Louis’ spine, wildly thinking that he might like to spend hours just kissing and licking at the dips of his skin.  

Harry felt the burning desire to impress Louis, to get the upper hand somehow in this whirlwind of action and feeling.  Leaving his thumbs to rub at the dimples of Louis’ spine, Harry slipped the tips of his fingers down beneath the waistband of Louis’ jeans, running his nails over the indentations on his skin.  Louis bit at the hinge of Harry’s jaw with a hiss, before pressing his lips back to Harry’s insistently.

“C’n I?” Harry asked, his lips catching against Louis’ as pointedly slid his fingers back and forth under the band of his pants, thumbs pressed against the dimples of Louis’ back.

“‘f you don’t,” Louis began, his exhalation shaky against Harry’s lips, “think I migh’ hav’ta kill ya.” He arched his bum back into Harry’s hands, undulating along his front pointedly.

Permission granted, Harry slipped his hands down below the waistband of Louis’ pants, digging his fingertips in along the ample swell of Louis’ arse, just toned and perfect as it looked in his jeans.  Harry could feel the ache behind his teeth with the need to get his mouth on Louis in whatever way possible, could feel his heart stutter step as Louis slumped bonelessly onto Harry’s chest with a cut-off whimper.

“God, jus’ _knew_ you’d have amazing hands, baby,” Louis admitted, undulating mindlessly against Harry’s thigh.  

Blindly, he searched out Louis’ mouth to kiss him again, to feel the hitches of his breath intimately against his mouth, while he worked his hands against the supple flesh of the most beautiful arse he’d ever had the privilege of touching.  He felt like he was coming out of his skin, the kissing and the intimate touches both simultaneously too much and not enough.  The constant pressure of his prick against his zipper and Louis’ own erection against his thigh was making it hard to concentrate on anything he was doing.

And they were still just in the bathroom at the fucking pub. “D’ya’wanna,” Harry began, inhaling in an attempt to clear his racing mind, “god, my flats down the street. Don’t wanna jus’ get off with you in loo.”

Louis’ fingers tightened against the swell of Harry’s hips, blunt nails biting pleasantly into the soft skin. “Yeah, fuck, yes,” he laughed, slightly-manic and overwhelmed, pausing his motions to just lean against Harry. “Please, ‘fore I come in my pants like a fuckin’ teenager.”

He pulled back slightly, regarding Harry with black-blown eyes, before leaning closer again into his space, stealing an aggressive kiss before Harry could even think to kiss back.  “Can’t wait to lay you out on a bed,” he rasped, voice wrapping around the words like a caress.  He palmed Harry through his pants before nipping his earlobe with sharp teeth, “gonna let me take you apart.” 

It wasn’t a question.

With a fortifying breath, Harry pushed off the wall, stealing a kiss back from Louis before grabbing his hand and rushing them out of the bathroom and back into the noise of the bar.

* * *

The night air was muggy and still, clinging to Harry like a second skin and doing very little to clear his head.  Louis hadn’t let go of his hand since they left the bathroom together, both of them painfully and obviously aroused, much to the simultaneous delight and disgust of Niall.

Their hands swung back and forth lightly between them as they walked, sharing puffs of a cigarette back and forth with occasional smoke-tinged kisses.  His stomach felt like butterflies were perpetually taking flight as he and Louis talked in hushed tones on the quick walk back to his place. There was some kind of unspoken agreement that they’d keep it calm in public.  Likely the threat of a public indecency charge is what would do it, but.  It was nice, existing with Louis in his space without feeling as though he could imminently come out of his fucking skin.

They finally reached Harry’s door and Louis snubbed out the butt of the cigarette before turning toward Harry, mouth quirked up slightly.  Rocking up on the balls of his feet, he leaned forward to press a kiss to Harry’s lips before settling back down.

“Is that my goodnight kiss, Prince Charming?” Harry teased, swinging Louis’ hand childishly between them.  Louis just...brought something out in him; something uninhibited and full of life.  Which, like, they had known each other less than an hour.  It was heady and a little scary, but also so exciting and new that Harry was dizzy with the possibilities.  Christ, they hadn’t even slept together yet and his time with Louis was leaving him feeling more fulfilled than he had in months of dates with other people.

“Jus’ felt like it,” Louis admitted, wrinkling his nose in a feigned embarrassment, belied only by the cheek-splitting grin he was sporting. “You gonna take me inside or what, baby?" 

Harry flushed at the implication, but more at the term of endearment. A giddy buzz went through him every time Louis called him baby. “Like when you call me that,” he admitted, biting down on the smile that threatened to break forth.

Louis ducked his head, fighting his own smile as well. “Didn’t mean to do it the first time,” he admitted, “but I liked your reaction. You’re so...responsive. So, I’m glad you like it and I’m not, like, completely off base in feeling this way?" 

“No, no,” Harry agreed, pulling him in closer by the hand, “we’re on the same page.”   

Their kiss was much softer than the ones they had shared at the bar, with Harry’s hands cradling Louis’ jaw and Louis’ hands finding a home on Harry’s hips.  With a dreamy sigh, Louis pulled back.  “Take me upstairs now, Harry.”

“Well, actually, we’re on the first floor.”

The responding eye roll was helplessly fond, as Louis turned away from Harry, waiting for him to come unlock the door with an impatient tap of his foot.

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Harry muttered, hurrying to the door.  

As he pulled it open, Louis reached out and smacked his ass, bypassing him with a cheeky “Not with that attitude, you won’t.”

“Luckily for you, I love the pain,” Harry said faux-haughtily, as he rubbed against his smarting cheek with a cheesy grin.  

Tipsy arousal had made him rush clumsily, so while he fumbled with the keys, Louis sidled up behind him, grinding his semi into Harry’s arse. “Don’t know why you thought that would help us get in this apartment any faster,” Harry groused as he thunked his head down on the door, struggling with the frustration of actually getting the fucking door to open and the frustration caused by Louis.

“Got all the time in th’ world,” Louis assured him, reaching around to palm over Harry’s lower stomach, scritching his nails through the coarse hair below his belly button. The muscles in Harry’s abdomen twitched so violently Louis must have felt it with how they were pressed together. He certainly did if the grin he pressed between Harry’s shoulder blades was any indication.

With a triumphant yelp, Harry finally got the door open, and they tripped inside together.

“Tour later, sex now,” Harry demanded, leading Louis to his bedroom with determination.

“Me Tarzan, you Jane,” Louis mocked back.

Harry turned, scooping Louis up over his shoulder, causing him to burst out laughing. “Put me down, you brute!” Louis giggled, beating at Harry’s back dramatically. 

Harry made monkey noises just to keep Louis laughing while he rubbed his hands up and down Louis’ muscular thighs. When they got to the bedroom, Harry placed Louis down gently on it, watching heatedly as Louis made himself comfortable up against the pillows.

Harry climbed up the bed after him, settling himself over Louis on his forearms.

“Hi,” Louis offered softly, a sweet smile on his face as he gazed up at Harry.

“Hi,” Harry responded, rubbing their noses together to watch Louis’ grin brighten even further.

“Should take our shoes off,” Louis breathed into the small space between them.

“Should, yeah,” Harry agreed, rubbing their noses together still.

“Gonna get the duvet dirty.”

“Gonna wash it anyway.”

“Should take our clothes off.”

“Should, yeah.”

“This, uh,” Louis began, bringing his arms up to rub down the curve of Harry’s back, “feels big?" 

A part of Harry wanted to take that, make the obvious joke.  But doing so could probably break the feeling that had settled around them, comfortable and warm, more settled than the frantic groping at the bar. 

“It does, yeah,” Harry agreed before he kissed him deeply.  
  
It was spit slick and messy and bone-achingly good.  Harry pulled away after a moment, taking off his shoes and socks quickly. “If you don’t let me take off the rest of your clothes, I’m going to leave right now,” Louis warned, poking Harry with the toe of his shoe.

Harry took the hint and began removing Louis’ clothes, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the arch of his foot and the hollow behind his knee, the vee of his hips and the dusky pink of his nipples.  Louis was a vision below him, boneless on the bed from Harry’s ministrations, pink-cheeked and so, so beautiful.  “You’re beautiful,” Harry told him, open and raw and honest, and leaned down to kiss him once again. 

Without breaking the kiss, Louis sat up on the bed so that he and Harry were kneeling before each other.  He reached behind Harry to rub at the warm skin of his lower back, slipping his hands up higher under the thin t-shirt, rubbing idly at the knots in the muscles he found. With a pull, Harry’s shirt was off and thrown somewhere over the side of the bed. Louis kissed him again, laying him back down.

“Gorgeous, just….gorgeous,” Louis marveled from his place between the sprawl of Harry’s legs.  His hands were wandering aimlessly around Harry’s torso, tracing his tattoos with a cold fingertip.  “Love these,” he whispered, rubbing along the laurels inked along Harry’s hips, dipping his finger underneath the waistband where they disappeared.   

Slowly, he unbuttoned Harry’s jeans and drew them down his legs with his pants before settling back into the vee of his legs.  He leaned down and ran his tongue over the indents left behind by his jeans, the wet of his tongue feeling like fire against the tender skin. With a hiss, Harry arched up into the feeling, his semi bumping into Louis’ bicep. “Easy,” Louis admonished, nipping at the soft swell of Harry’s hip before kissing down each of the laurels in turn.

“Easy for you to say,” Harry gritted out, fighting to keep his hips from continually swiveling, stroking his hands up and down the back of Louis’ neck for the need for something to keep him occupied.

With a smirk, Louis lifted off his hips, running his hands up Harry’s body. “Love these,” he said, playing with Harry’s extra nipples, “are they sensitive?”

“Little bit,” Harry admitted, gritting his teeth as Louis flicked his thumbnails over them rapidly, “not as much a th’ big ones, obviously, but." 

“Oh,” Louis began mischievously, “you mean these?” He slid his hands up, chilled fingers circling around the buds until they were budded and hard.

“God, yes,” he moaned wantonly, scrabbling at the duvet to anchor himself as Louis lazily kept circling his nipples, nails catching every so often on the delicate skin.

“Could wind you up for hours, I think,” he admitted from where he had his head rested against Harry’s hip, cataloging every hitch of breath and microexpression to flit across Harry’s face. “What if I…” 

With that, he leaned up and ran his teeth over Harry’s left nipple, the scrape and warm suction of his mouth a shock after his cool fingers.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell,” Harry grit out, hands flying to the back of Louis’ head to keep him where he was, keep that heat and pressure where he was so sensitive.

“Ya like tha’?” he questioned rhetorically, kissing his way across Harry’s sternum where his heart felt like it might just beat out of its chest.

“You know I do, babe, god I _know_ you know,” Harry whined out, gasping as Louis began to suck a bruise onto the sensitive skin of his pec, the muscle jumping with the attention.

“Wanna do this for hours, take ya apart, find out wha’ ya like,” he said as he kissed up toward Harry’s collarbones, nipping along the birds tattooed there before settling to suck another bruise on the thin skin over jugular.

Harry threw his head back, a litany of “I’d let you, I’d let you,” falling from his lips.

“God, I really do feel like a teenager,” Louis laughed, still kissing aimlessly along the column Harry’s neck, “feel like I could come just from this. Watchin’ ya, touchin’ ya, rubbin’ off on ya.”  He pressed a lingering kiss on Harry’s shoulder, open-mouthed and achingly tender. “Where’s the lube?”

“Drawer. What’re you gonna do to me?” Harry asked, pushing himself up onto his elbows to get a better view as Louis went up on all fours to dig through the drawer.

With a devil-may-care smirk, Louis pulled the lube from the drawer, shutting it with a decisive snick. 

“Lay down,” he ordered, “an' gimme your hand.”

Harry held his hand toward Louis.  Louis placed a kiss on the back of his knuckles before sucking Harry’s middle finger into his mouth, all tight suction and the slightest hint of teeth, causing Harry’s breath to hitch in his chest. “Love your hands.” 

“Can tell,” Harry laughed breathlessly, overwhelmed and not quite knowing what to do with himself or with the boy that had perched himself on Harry’s upper thighs. God, he had such a pretty dick, curved up slightly to the left, pink and slick at the tip.  Harry’s own dick twitched as he stared unabashedly.

Louis took his hand, adding a dollop of lube to his palm. “Won’t need much,” he surmised, “get really drippy.”

Harry surged up to kiss him at that, overwhelmed and overcome.  His hand found Louis’ prick, silken smooth and so hard, filling Harry’s palm nearly perfectly.

“Wh’ ‘bout yours?” Louis whispered against his lips, scooting back a bit on Harry’s thighs so that Harry could take both of them into his hand.

The first contact of their dicks together punched out a guttural moan from Harry which was eagerly swallowed up by Louis as he put both hands to Harry’s jaw to hold them tightly together. There was so little room to work with already, but Harry pulled Louis to him with his free hand, pressing their chests together and trapping their dicks between them, up against their stomachs and gripped in Harry’s fist.

“Feel so good,” Harry said, thumbing under the head of Louis’ dick to feel his moan rumble through his chest and into Harry’s. They were so connected this way, so much more intimate than a quick fumble in the sheets.

Louis shuddered against him, hitching his hips in tiny helpless circles. The movement pushed their dicks together more firmly and Harry had to squeeze his eyes shut to prevent himself from coming immediately.

Louis left his hand on Harry’s cheek, still under the pretense of kissing though, at this point, they were really just sharing each others air, lips catching occasionally in a spit-slick slide. His other hand went to their dicks, fingers filling out the gaps that Harry’s hand was unable to reach. The dryness of his palms added to the friction between them and he grasped a little harder than Harry did, clearly going for it the way he liked.  On the upstroke, he swiped his palm over the head of Harry’s dick, smiling against Harry’s mouth as he gasped at the pleasantly rough drag.

“‘M gonna come,” Louis breathed, his forehead pressed against Harry’s, his hips never ceasing their grinding.

“Do it, god, wan’a feel ya,” Harry responded, hand never slowing between them as he slipped a dry finger down toward Louis’ hole, stroking at the hotly pucked skin. That was all it took to have Louis shooting off between them, covering their hands and stomachs as he whined and moaned into Harry’s neck.

Harry went to move back, but Louis wrapped his arm around his shoulders, keeping them pressed together. “Keep goin’,” he demanded, “like how it feels. Wanna feel you too.”

With a shuddering breath, Harry kept going, reveling in the little mewls Louis let out at the oversensitivity, his body still shuddering with the remnants of his orgasm.

“God, baby, feel so good, made me feel so good,” Louis praised, stroking Harry’s hair by his ear, “love watching you get us off. Look so good, you’re so good, Harry.”

Harry came with a shout, just like that. The speed that it came on surprised him, and he collapsed on top of Louis, who held him as he shook through his own orgasm. 

Louis pushed his legs out straight but did nothing else to dislodge Harry, stroking along the expanse of his back with his clean hand. Harry buried his face in Louis sweaty chest, nuzzling at his chest hair and listening to his heartbeat slow from racing.

“Holy shit,” Harry laughed incredulously, propping his chin up on Louis’ sternum.

“Can say that again,” Louis agreed, closing his eyes with a smile as Harry began rubbing at his hip.

“Holy shit.”

“Cheeky,” he laughed, leaning up to give Harry a kiss.  “Shouldn’t reward you for behavior like that.  Gonna take forever to train you out of it." 

It was impossible to hide the smile that broke out on Harry’s face so he didn’t even bother trying. Clearly, he and Louis were on the same page here about whatever this was.

“I say we shower.  Get dirty while we get clean, ‘f ya catch my meaning.”

“You just want a shower blowie,” Harry responded, already pushing himself up off the bed, ready to be clean of the already drying come on his hand and belly.

“Be that as it may,” Louis defended, scrambling after him, “I also want to cuddle in the bed tonight. And then wake up tomorrow and have sleepy, slow morning sex. And then eat breakfast in bed and we can just...talk.”

Harry had stopped walking, looking at him agog, making Louis pause to watch him. “Too much?” he asked, unsurety creeping into his voice.

“No,” Harry responded, crossing the floor to him in two strides to kiss him in assurance. “‘S perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> bless this mess.


End file.
